


Dimensional Traveler

by StormyChaos



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: It's about his life in the portal, LOST ALL MY NOTES - WILL PROBABLY NOT UPDATE, May have explict language later when applicable in dialogue, Mild Gore, Multi, Not too bad - just Ford injuries and whatnot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 07:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5155274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyChaos/pseuds/StormyChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanford Pines was tossed into a portal during a fight with his brother.<br/>It wasn't for thirty more years that he would return through it back into Gravity Falls, Oregon...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dimensional Traveler

“Stanley? Stanley, help me!” Stanford called out, the end of his trench coat already caught in the portal’s blue abyss.  
“Oh no, what do I do?!” It was too late regardless. There was nothing that could be done, but in this time of danger – Stanley’s mind drew a blank, and his brother shouting his name back at him wasn’t helping either.  
“Stanley, do something!” The only thing he could think of was to throw the first journal in his hand at his brother, maybe with this happening it would give him the thought to hide it instead of burn it.  
"Stanford!" A desperate Stanley called at the hungry portal before he was shoved back onto the ground by an unknown force from the portal. There was a bright flash, and everything went white.  
Electricity shocked through Stanford's body, his throat burned he couldn’t even make a sound, whatever was happening he was sure he would die. Stanford prepared for death, for whatever Fiddleford got scared from what he saw, and awaited the end. He didn’t want to die, he still had so many things to do and see, so many things he regretted. The last things he said with his brother were venom. He can’t remember what he’d last said to his Mom and Dad. Had he ever had a proper conversation with his other sibling?  
What he was waiting for never came, the electricity flowing through him only became more violent. If whatever was at the end of this portal wouldn’t get the chance to kill him at this rate, since he felt as though he was on death row receiving the electric chair. There was another flash, and everything went black including his own consciousness.

The older Pines’ twin woke slowly, but as his eyes opened he felt drained and drowsy, then all of a sudden he pushed himself off the ground after being face first into the dirt and dust. There was a pain in his head from the rush, but as it faded another pain spiked somewhere else. He rolled over to feel down at his leg to find a sharp pain when he touched it, his fingers damp, and he instantly dreaded looking down. When he looked down slowly, he first saw the tips of his fingers red and behind them was a sharp shard deep in his leg.  
Stanford let out a breath to keep himself calm, he wasn’t sure how deep it was but he was bleeding. He had the stop the bleeding somehow, but he knew he'd been swallowed up into the portal and he was sure there was no hospital anywhere close. Feeling the shard sent a shock of pain through his senses, he grit his teeth to withstand it and let out a small hiss through his clenched teeth. He knew he had to remove it, but he did not want to do that... not one bit. He took off his coat and bit a part of the front side of the coat to start a rip inseam and pulled down along it to tear off a long strip of the fabric. With the makeshift bandage, he began to take quick breaths to ready himself for the inevitable removal.  
Stanford just wished he had some alcohol on him to pour into the wound to avoid infection, but he knew that would probably put him into unconsciousness with the pain before he could even wrap it up. Who knows what kind of bacteria particles were floating around in this place? He put his fingers around the shard, getting a teaser of the pain that was going to be incoming, and closing his eyes he took some steady breaths to prepare himself. His breathing increased to small, fast breaths before removing the anomaly shard. He couldn’t help but let out a pained yell, before shutting his mouth and seething through his teeth. Tears swelled in his tear ducts, the pain was incredible, but Stanford had to cover it up before he bled out on the ground where he sat. Bringing his knee up with the help of his arms, he wrapped the bandage around the abrasion a couple times, before tying it up tightly to attempt the stop of blood seepage.

After recovering, Stanford knew he’d need to find something to help him walking since his left leg was practically useless until he got it properly covered and disinfected. The attempt at standing up on his feet proved to be the toughest so far, as he fell back and forward a few times back into the dirt. Now that he wasn’t dead from the portal, he was not going to give up. He was a Pines; he would fight the inevitable odds and if he was going to go down, he would do so fighting. He’d built the portal and had only a small idea of where it possibly led but this didn’t seem like anywhere near Gravity Falls or even America for that matter. Sure wasn’t even anywhere on the continent, he wasn’t even sure he was still on Earth. Stanford was no stranger to unexplained situations, it’s what drew him to the small town in Oregon after all. He hoped that Stanley took the advice he said to do and did it, and as much as he wouldn’t like to think about – but, who was he kidding, he probably didn’t. 

Stanford eventually got himself up, limping but at least he was able to walk in the first place. Each step proved to be less painful than the last, his leg was turning numb. What he found not even five minutes later was a small cave with a wooden makeshift door. He moved the door to get inside, hoping to get some medical supplies and leave before anyone noticed. “Hello?” His voice echoed in the home, his voice groggy and throat dry. It didn’t seem like anyone still lived here, or hadn’t in a long time. The first bit of luck today. He limped inside, instantly looking for proper first aid and bandages. Whoever must have lived here left in a fast hurry since there was still tons of things littered throughout the place covered by at least three layers of dust. He took apart cabinets and drawers to find what he needed.

Ten minutes later, everything was lain out in an orderly conduct. He unwrapped the clothing around his leg, and rolled up his pant leg above his knee and wound to begin his work. The first part was the most painful, and he knew and accepted it. He took off his coat and rolled one of his sleeves and placed it in his mouth between his teeth and clamped down. He unscrewed the top of a flask, paused just for a moment to close his eyes and steady his breath. This was going to hurt, the wound was still bleeding and it was deep but he couldn’t risk infection and losing his whole leg entirely. With the same amount of regret as not, he poured the alcohol on the wound. Tear ducts instantly reacting, eyes closed, and his teeth clenched hard enough he would have most definitely bit through his tongue and would have cut it into two. Saying it stung would be a mass understatement. A pain-filled scream was muffled behind the sleeve fabric. After about a few minutes of uneven and loud breathing, the pain became bearable he took the sharp small foreign object that would be his makeshift needle and began to sew up the wound. He needed to seal it, and just throwing a band-aid over it was sure not going to get the job done. After stitching was complete, he wrapped the bandage carefully around the wound and leg. He was done. It was done.

He shoved everything around and on him to the side on the floor and just sat back for a second, leaning his head back on the wall. He could feel his heartbeat in his leg, head and chest. Everything ached. His eyes closing.  
Where was he? Was there a way to get home? Was he in some sort of previously-theorized phenomenal dimension? Questions like these and many more now rushed into his head now that he was a bit more relaxed than since he got here. This couldn’t have been the place Fiddleford saw that caused him to lose his sanity… it wasn’t that terrifying. Or, what Stanford slightly feared, did he see something else than what he was currently in?

... Was he free from Bill Cipher?

For now, though, the questions would need to be looked into later. He was drained physically, mentally and emotionally. He was sore in more places than the amount of his fingers. Getting a quick shut eye, just in case this ended up being his only chance, he took it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the interest! I should have a chapter up every two weeks to a month, and I'm also going to be taking requests for what to throw at Stanford while he's in these different dimensions!


End file.
